Mr and Mrs Anderson
by Azara-Rayne18
Summary: Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan's lives were perfect until a serial killer came after their baby and they were forced into hiding. 16 years later, Booth just wants to bond with his son, and to protect Blaine from the killer who is still searching...
1. Chapter 1

He was perfect.

It was Seeley Booth's first thought when the doctor delivered the tiny, squirming pink infant into his arms. Bones was lying on the hospital bed, his pretty fiancée recovering from her ordeal. "How is he?" She asked; her voice barely audible over their newborn son's wails.

"He's got a set of lungs, that's for sure," Booth chuckled, blinking rapidly to keep the building tears in his eyes at bay.

"Can I hold him?" Brennan reached her arms out, and Booth handed the baby over. Brennan's eyes softened as she looked into her son's face for the first time. "There's no need to cry, little one," she cooed, running a finger along his cheek, "You're merely experiencing an overwhelming barrage of auditory, visual, and kinesthetic stimulations. It won't hurt you, you're okay."

The baby's indignant wails faded into nothing. He tilted his head weakly, trying to get closer to his mother's touch and voice. Tiny eyes fluttered from beneath pearly lids, his miniature mouth opening and tilting toward the finger stroking his cheek. He had a full head of dark hair arrayed in little curls. He grunted, displeased that his search had not turned up any food, and opened his big brown eyes, gaze falling unsteadily onto his father.

Seeley's heart swelled all over again. See? Perfect.

An hour later, when Bones had successfully fed their new little tyke – "it's only breastfeeding, Booth, it's perfectly natural. You've seen my breasts on several occasions - " "Not in front of the baby, Bones!" - And the doctors had officially declared both baby and mother healthy, their visitors were sent in.

Angela came in first. "Oh, my gosh, he's adorable!"

"You want to hold him?" Brennan asked gently.

"Yes!" Angela cried, holding out her arms. Brennan handed the baby over slowly; careful to make sure Angela's hand was supporting his neck. The baby let out a warning cry, not happy to be separated from his mother, but submitted when he found the arms he was transferred to warm and soft. He sighed, nuzzling Angela's chest. "Awww, baby cuddles," Angela gushed, kissing the baby's forehead with ruthless abandon.

"A boy, huh?" Jack Hodgins looked over his wife's shoulder, smiling at the new arrival. "What are you going to name him?"

"I like Blaine," Angela said.

"That's cute," Brennan offered from her place on the bed.

"I know, right? He looks like a Blaine."

"Whoa there, girls," Booth interrupted, stepping forward to reclaim his son, "We already have a name for him, don't need another one."

"Should we start a drumroll?" Hodgins asked, "Or are you going to tell us?"

Booth looked down at the bundle in his arms, looking into his son's eyes as he told the little boy his name, "Eric Brennan Booth."

"Eric? Why Eric?" Angela asked.

"The Little Mermaid was one Bones' favorite movies growing up," Booth said, "And I liked the name, so we went with it."

"You watched The Little Mermaid?" Angela said, grinning widely.

"I was unaware of the impossibilities inherent in a human-fish hybrid at the time," Brennan sniffed.

Angela and Brennan continued to talk back and forth, but Booth soon stopped listening. He had gone through this before, with Parker, but nothing could prepare him for the way the whole world seemed to have shifted, and placed this tiny human being at the center of his universe. Eric yawned widely and closed his eyes, snuggling into his daddy's arms as he went to sleep.

"I love you, little man," Booth whispered, and the baby sighed in response. Perfect.


	2. One Year Later

I think I should call the babysitter one more time," Booth said, shifting in his seat. His cell phone was set on vibrate, a comforting weight in the pocket of his jeans. It was the only link between him and Eric at the moment, and his hand twitched, itching to grab hold of it.

"You just called fifteen minutes ago," Brennan said. It was true; Booth had called on their way from dinner to the theatre. Now they were sitting in the lit theatre waiting for the lights to dim, and Booth couldn't stop fidgeting.

"Yeah, but I feel like I should call again. Eric was asleep; I didn't really get to talk to him."

"You talked to him the first time you called."

"Are you sure this babysitter is going to take good care of him?" Booth asked. "I mean, she's only sixteen."

"Yes, but she seems very proficient in handling children," Brennan said, "She has several younger siblings of her own; she even knows that game you like to play with Eric. The one where you cover your face with your hands and then remove them rapidly to create the illusion of disappearing?"

"Peekaboo?" Booth asked, "Yeah, I'm not surprised that she knows that one."

"Eric seemed delighted to have found a new playmate," Brennan said under her breath.

There was an uncomfortable silence, the way there always was after one of Brennan's sullen remarks, "I'm sorry, you're right. I've just been dealing with a tough case lately, and I guess it's messing with my head."

"Do tell," Brennan said, perking up instantly. Seeley smiled at her enthusiasm. She had been taking time off of work to write and care for the baby, and Booth knew that she was missing her job.

"Calls himself the Doll face killer. He finds these young, attractive people, breaks into their homes. Tortures them, breaks their bones, slices them up, and then while they're bleeding to death, he gouges their eyes out and replaces them with plastic eyes. Doll's eyes. He leaves dolls with their eyes gouged out on the doorstep, for the families to find, and then when they walk in, they see their loved one's mutilated bodies on the floor… I've been looking at these bodies all week, Bones, and I've got to tell you, this guy's creeping me out. I just, I see these people, and I can't help but picture Eric in a few years. All the victims remind me of him, what I'd do if something happened to him…"

"Oh," Brennan rubbed her hand along his shoulders, "Seeley, nothing is going to happen to Eric, you would never allow it. And neither would I. Our baby is fine." She smiled reassuringly.

"Still, I feel like I should call one more time. Just to make sure that she's feeding him right, she knows that she needs to cut the pizza into little pieces for him, right?"

"I told her everything she would need to know," Brennan defended herself. "Listen, Seeley, I have been staying home with Eric every day - "

"- I told you I would be happy to stay home with him – "

" - And I find it very fulfilling, but I have also been looking forward to some time alone with my husband. Statistics show that couples who spend time together away from their children are able to better face their responsibilities as parents, and enjoy a stronger bond with each other and with their baby. Eric is an only child; it's healthy for him to enjoy time with someone outside of his immediate family. I'm thinking of his well-being too, you know."

"You don't have to defend yourself, Bren…"

"I worry about him," Brennan said. "It's only natural; he's my son."

"It's kind of surprising, though, isn't it?" Booth said. "How strong it is? The way that smile lights up your whole world. How much you love him, how you'd do anything for him."

"I enjoy my role as a maternal caregiver very much," Brennan said primly. "And, yes, I love my baby even more than I had initially anticipated. But we've spent months searching for a film that caters to each of our unique tastes, and I'd like to watch it with you. So, no phone. Please."

And with those pretty blue eyes staring into his, how could he say no?

Two and a half hours later;

"That was great!" Seeley laughed, "I gotta tell you, Bones, this date night idea of yours was solid. I haven't had this much fun in a long time."

"See, it was good for both of us," Brennan beamed. "And now that we're refreshed we can bathe Eric and put him to bed, and then we'll have time for amorous activities…"

"Oh, yeah?" Booth's eyebrows rose as he leaned forward to kiss his wife on the cheek. A perfect end to the perfect night, he thought…

… Until Brennan turned the corner and bright red and blue lights caught his attention.

"Seeley…" Brennan's voice was shaking. There were two police cars parked in their driveway, an officer standing out front, talking to a pimply young pizza delivery boy. The boy was pale and shaky, a pool of vomit on the driveway in front of him.

"Hey, what's going on?" Seeley called, slamming the car door shut and stalking up to the officer. The pizza boy stared at him with haunted eyes. "This is my house, what's going on here?" Brennan came up next to him, clinging to his arm with both hands.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid your house is currently the scene of a crime…"

"What are you talking about? What crime?" Booth was starting to shout, but his wife cut him off. Brennan gasped, her grip tightening around his forearm. Booth followed her gaze, and his blood froze in his veins.

There were two baby dolls sitting on their front porch, foreheads leaning against each other.

Their eyes were missing.


	3. Chapter 3

"I want to see my son." It was the first thing Booth could think to say. Brennan nodded behind him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Booth, but we need to finish gathering evidence before we allow you to - "

"I don't care what you are willing to allow," Brennan said, "Our baby is in there!" She shoved the spluttering officer aside, running up the driveway as best she could in heels. If his heart wasn't beating a hole through his chest, Booth would have found it hot.

They burst into their foyer and looked for the largest group. The police would know where Eric was, they would know if he was – Booth's mind broke off. He couldn't finish that sentence, unless it was with the word "okay".

The body the police were gathered around shouldn't have been shocking, and in most ways, it wasn't. A sixteen year old female, skin lacerated in dozens of places, recent trails of salt water and blood staining the skin underneath eyes that were no longer there. They'd been replaced by glass that stared up at the police around her. One of her tibia had broken through the skin, purposefully broken in order to cause maximum pain.

These facts raced through Booth's head in a matter of seconds, but it was one thing to analyze a dead body; quite another to see the mutilated face of a girl he'd talked to only hours before.

Booth allowed his eyes to sweep over Olivia Frances' face one last time before he searched for his son. He sighed, tears of relief springing to his eyes when his boy's tiny body failed to turn up. Another glance caused the panic to come back full force. None of the officers were holding him.

"Where is my son?" He asked; his voice low and dangerous.

"We haven't located the child, sir."

"You haven't located him? How many places are there to look?" Brennan cried, losing her composure.

"We're still searching, ma'am. We are operating under the assumption that your son is still alive."

Still alive.

"Eric?" The pair ran upstairs, their hands finding each other out of habit and the need for comfort more than purposeful affection. Brennan led Booth into their son's room, the familiar stuffed dog and crib decorated with tiny skeleton mobiles sending shock waves through his heart. Bones had chosen the Halloween decorations in order to de-stigmatize human remains for their child. She didn't want their son to grow up with unnecessary fear.

"Eric!" Booth's hands were large and clumsy as he tore through the blankets, failing to find his baby underneath. He wanted his son in his arms more than anything, to see those big brown eyes, not dead glass replacements. It was when he stopped to breathe, throwing the blankets back into the crib, that he heard it.

"Eric…"

Eric's cries were clear, growing louder and more hysterical, but obviously, wonderfully him. Booth could feel his wife's pulse under his fingers, soaring along with his own heartbeat. Just a few more seconds of frantic searching and they would be complete again.

They ran into their bedroom and split up. Brennan threw open their closer. Booth checked the rest of the room. Their bed was made, as usual, no Eric in sight. Booth checked underneath it, "You found him yet?"

"He's not here." Brennan said, "Eric? Where are you?"

"Ma-ma!" Eric called, his voice wet and frightened. The thought that his son might be injured flashed through Booth's mind, then faded as he pushed it away.

"Mama's here, Eric," Booth said, "I am, too. Where are you, baby?"

"Da!"

"The dresser; he's in the dresser!" Brennan said, both of them racing in unison to begin opening drawers. They found him in the third drawer down. His chubby cheeks were tear stained, but mercifully unharmed. Booth's son raised dimpled baby arms toward his father's face, his own face pleading.

"Da!"

Booth grabbed his son. The drawer was lined with his favorite blanket, but terribly dark and cramped. He must have been so scared… Booth cradled the baby to his chest, handing him to his mother when his cries quieted to less than hysterical.

"Mummm…" Eric hummed, rubbing his wet face against his mother's chest. Brennan grabbed at him, sighing and breathing in his scent, her nose pressed against his curly hair and her eyes locked on Booth, begging for an explanation he couldn't give.

"What the hell happened here?"


	4. Chapter 4

Eric Booth was not having a good day.

It started out fine. Eric had his doubts about the girl Mum and Da had left him with, but she was delightful. She was a wizard, as it turned out; she did magic tricks for him until his sides ached from laughing and his head was drooping with exhaustion. Then she had cuddled him on the couch until he'd fallen asleep, letting him rest his head on her soft shoulder.

The next thing he knew, he was in a dark tiny place and there were bad sounds all around him. Dadee had saved him, of course, but he wasn't quite sure his parents understood how scary the dark place was. He took his fist out of his mouth and told them, but Mum merely held him tighter and shushed him. Eric squirmed; darn that woman and her infernal cuddling! He had something he needed to tell her!

Mum bounced him on her knee and said something to Da. Dadee nodded and walked into the kitchen, where all the strange men were standing around a white shape on the ground. Eric tried asking Mum what it was, but she didn't answer. Eric pouted, stuffing his fist back into his mouth. Soon he would learn these big people codes and they would have to answer him.

Dadee knelt down in front of him, "Hi, Eric."

Eric frowned. Now they wanted to talk, did they? Well, he wasn't pulling his fist out of his mouth to answer them; that was for sure.

Da made an unhappy face, "What's the matter, little man?"

Eric whimpered, and told Da all about how horrible it was. How he couldn't get out of the dark place and he cried and cried without anybody listening. How Mama and Dadee weren't there, and he was scared they would never come and find him again. Da shushed him gently and gave him a banana.

Eric told Da seriously that, banana or no banana, they were going to discuss this further. Then he used one hand to clumsily guide the banana to his mouth. Dadee smiled, but the tired lines stayed around his eyes as he leaned forward to give Eric a kiss. "That's my boy. I love you, Eric."

"Lub you, Dadee," Eric said with a full mouth. Mum ran her hand on top of his curls. Eric twisted his little body around to see her. Mama's eyes were tired, too. Eric mouth scrunched the way it always did when he was thinking very hard about something. Why were Mum and Dadee still so sad? Perhaps he had been too hard on them. Eric patted Mum's cheek, "S'okey, Mama," he said. He pulled his hand away, leaving banana smudges. Then he went back to check on Dadee.

Da was talking to one of the strange men, his face a mix between sad and angry. The man shook his head, and Dadee started yelling. Eric jumped and covered his ears, suddenly glad that a cuddle was Mama's answer for everything. When Dadee yelled the lines in his neck bulged and his eyes became scary.

"Shhh… it's okay. Maybe a calming auditory stimulation would help sooth you?" Mama started humming a tune Eric recognized from many a bedtime. Eric tried to match it, humming a little tune of his own. Mum smiled and kissed him all over his grubby face.

And that was when the phone rang. Everyone went quiet, and a strange man with white hands pushed one of the magic buttons that Eric wasn't allowed to touch. A voice filled the room. It was angry and loud and didn't sound human.

"I bet she thought she was smart, hiding the little brat from me! Well, guess what, Agent Seeley Booth, this isn't over yet! Your son is going to make a beautiful doll, blood running down that pretty little face. And then maybe you'll mind your own damn business, Agent Booth, instead of barging into mine! You'll beg me to kill him, you'll beg me! THIS ISN'T OVER!"

Eric heard the words without understanding them. The voice sounded scary, but Eric was a big boy. He was strong, like Dadee, so if Dadee wasn't scared, he wouldn't cry. Simple as that. He twisted around in Mama's relaxed arms, fully expecting to see his Dadee laughing or getting him another banana.

But Dadee wasn't doing that.

Dadee was making a scared face, his face white and eyes staring at the magic buttons. Eric turned back to his Mum, but she was making the scared face too, and her arms were starting to shake around him.

Okay, it was time to panic.

Eric opened his mouth wide and wailed.

Nobody shushed him.


	5. Chapter 5

"Mr. and Mrs. Booth," The detective angled her chin towards them, gracefully setting herself into the chair behind her desk. Detective Lancaster was a large woman, heavy but fit and energetic, decided in her movements. Booth relaxed a little. This was a woman who knew what she was doing.

Lancaster glanced at Bones, grinning at the little boy in her arms. Eric stared back at her through solemn brown eyes, his tiny lips curling involuntarily around the fist he had stuffed into his mouth. Ever since he'd discovered his hands, he'd developed a habit of chewing on them, especially when stressed. Temperance clicked her tongue and tried to pull his hand away, but Eric merely whined and batted at her with his other arm. Booth met her eyes and silently held his hands up. Within moments, Eric was nestled in his arms.

"Dadee." Eric beamed up at him, taking his hand out of his mouth and letting it fall onto his jacket with a wet smack. "Dadee. Dadee." Eric kept up a running chant as his father stared into his eyes. Eric's eyes were almost too big for his face, a perfect counterpoint to the small button nose and miniature lips. He was so innocent, so perfect... Seeley's eyes darkened.

"How did that psycho get this close to my son?" He asked.

Lancaster shifted uncomfortably, "We're not sure, Mr. Booth. He must have been stalking you for sometime. He left plenty of evidence, though. We found a recording he'd made of the crime on your email this morning."

"He made a recording of Olivia Frances' murder?" Temperance was horrified. Eric leaned his slender body over Booth's arm, and patted at her shoulder. If it were a normal day at home, Bones would have been thrilled, going on and on to Seeley about how he was learning to interpret subtle physiological indicators in order to comfort his primary caretaker, and how he'd inherited that skill from his father. As it was, she simply grabbed his chubby fist and shook it gently, pursing her lips and blowing air at him. Eric squealed with delight and giggled, looking up at his Daddy to make sure Seeley saw how funny Mommy was.

"We're afraid he did. The voice is too distorted to make out, but we're working on tracing the email as we - "

"You won't find the source," Booth said. "We've been working on this guy for weeks, he's too smart for an email trace. Let's get to the real deal here; what did the file tell you?"

"Not any good news, I'm afraid," Lancaster said, "He was angry at you for getting in the way of his work. He knocked on the door before the killing to scope out your home."

"That matches the M.O." Booth nodded.

"And apparently, Olivia Frances got a bad feeling from him, because she picked your son up out of his crib and hid him as soon as she thought he was gone. She was heading over to call the police when he broke in. He tried to torture Olivia into telling him where the baby was, and she refused. He had just finished inserting the eyes when the pizza boy looked through a window, saw what was happening and called the police. By the time we arrived..."

"Olivia was dead."Booth exchanged a sad look with his wife. No one deserved to die that horribly, especially not a young girl. "So, what do we do now?"

"Well, obviously our first priority is making sure that Eric is safe. The message left on your home phone is... obviously a concern. But at this time, we don't feel that there's a direct threat to his - "

Lancaster never finished her sentence. She yelled, lunged toward them and collapsed, dying from the bullet wound in her chest. The glass from where the window had burst peppered the floor, and Eric's voice rose in a frightened wail. Seeley leaped to his feet, ignoring every self preservation instinct he had in favor of shielding his son from more bullets. His hand wrapped around the back of Eric's head, pressing the boy's twisted little face against his jacket.

Eric sobbed against his Daddy's chest as Brennan ran out into the crowd, finding the gunman and slamming him, face first, against the wall.

"It's not my fault!" The man shrieked. "Said 'e would kill me if I didn't shoot at the kid. I missed on purpose, hit the old broad. I couldn't really kill the kid, promise!" It was hard to make out; Temperance had slammed his face against the wall. As soon as he finished she knocked him against the wall again, a sickening crack sounding as his nose broke.

"I don't care what you were aiming for!" Brennan said, "That was my husband and baby you just shot at!"

Booth smiled grimly. If it hadn't meant exposing Eric to more bullets, he would be out there smashing the guy into a wall himself. By the time Brennan calmly returned and took their son into her own arms, Booth was ready to do just that.

"'M sorry, okay!" The man shrieked as Seeley barreled down on him. He was sobbing now, tears leaking into the blood coating his mustache, and making him even harder to understand. "Tole me 'e wanted the baby dead. Threaten' me. Won't stop til he's dead. Won't stop. NO!" And then the man slumped to the ground, dead from another bullet to the chest.

Seeley's phone rang and he pressed it to his ear, hissing as the hideously distorted voice whispered in his ear. Two words.

"See now?"


	6. Chapter 6

Three days later, and Booth felt like he was going to crack. They had been in the safe house since Lancaster's death, waiting for the authorities to decide what was best for them. Part of Booth wanted to rail against it. He was the father here; shouldn't he be trusted to know what was best for his family? He was distracted when the front door opened, and a thin man in a black suit stepped in.

"Mr. and Mrs. Booth," He said in a thin, nasally voice that matched his face. "How are things this evening?"

Booth glanced down at his arms, where Eric was fast asleep; "We'll be fine as soon as we know he's safe."

"Oh, right to business, aren't we?" The man clapped his hands together, and bit down on his lower lip. "I can't really say I blame you. I'm afraid we haven't caught the Dollface yet; besides a few letters, there's been no sign of - "

"Letters?" Bones said, "What did they say?"

The Detective's uncomfortable expression was their only answer.

"You don't think you're going to catch him, do you?" Booth said.

"Oh, we'll catch him. Eventually…. In the meantime, however, we feel that the best option for keeping your family safe is relocation."

"Relocation?" Temperance echoed. If Booth had been paying attention, he would have been worried about how much she'd paled.

"Temporarily. There's an opening in Westerville, Ohio for a bone expert to work in their human remains exhibit. It's a well-respected anthropological museum, and given your qualifications, you should have no trouble being hired. There is also an opening in the police force for you, Mr. Booth. Obviously, you wouldn't be able to go by your current names any longer, and some mild altering of your appearance would be expected, and you would choose new names for yourself and Eric."

"So, we're just going to disappear?" Seeley asked. Bones was silent.

"According to the letters we received, Dollface is under the impression that Eric was shot. We can create evidence that he was killed, and his parents killed themselves out of grief. Crude, but it should be effective. We can have you relocated as soon as - "

"No." Booth looked up, shocked at the tone in his wife's voice. Temperance's normally sweet eyes were steely and cold, her tone trembling with anger. She shook her head again, "No." And she stood up, quietly walking away. Booth stood up, careful not to jostle his son, and ran after her.

"Tempe, baby, what the hell was that?" Booth demanded quietly as he followed his wife into their room. He lay Eric down on the bed and faced his wife.

"We're not doing that, Booth. We're just not."

"I think I should have a say in this, too, don't you think?" Booth was astonished. Temperance was pale, trembling with emotion, nothing like the sweet, logical, amazing woman he'd married. Temperance pointed a finger at their son, her jaw trembling as she spoke.

"I am not raising him with a lie."

And suddenly, Booth understood. He closed his eyes, "Temperance, we're not…"

"What if this takes years, Booth? What if something happens to us and Eric grows up without even knowing his name? I can't be - "

"We're not your parents, Bren."

"Because of what we do, the people we chose to be around, now Eric is in danger, and we're honestly thinking about changing his identity. We're taking away his friends; his family. Doesn't that sound familiar to you?"

"They did what they did to protect themselves, we'll be doing it for Eric. I don't like this anymore than you do, but it's the best way to protect him. We're doing it for Eric."

Booth's son chose that moment to wake up. Booth watched as his son rubbed his eyes with little fist and lifted his chubby arms in the direction of his mother.

"Mommy?" Eric asked.

Temperance took one look at her son's face, and Booth watched as the fight drained out of her. His heart ached, and he was left wondering when his life as a husband and father had gone so wrong. Temperance bit back her tears, resolute and cold as she always was when something needed to be done.

"Go get the detective."

XXxxxXXxxxXXXXx

The day they left was unusually sunny, but neither Seeley nor Temperance acknowledged it. The pair worked quickly, packing up their lives with as little thought as possible. Booth finished the last box and climbed into the front seat. The message was clear; Temperance sighed as she made her way to where Eric was happily playing in the flowerbed outside their home.

Eric looked up, giggling when he saw his Mommy. He reached up and clung to her as she picked him up. "This is the best way to protect you. It's the logical thing to do, the most effective. I'm doing this because I love you." Temperance fought back her tears as she lifted him into the car, buckling his seat as quickly as possible. She leaned in to kiss his forehead, breathing in his scent as a tear broke loose and slipped down her cheek.

"I love you so much… Blaine."


	7. 13 Years Later

"Blaine? Blaine, wake up!"

Blaine Anderson groaned, swimming up from sleep reluctantly. His eyes opened a crack, fighting against the light streaming in from his window. He glanced at his alarm clock, and groaned as he realized that it wasn't due to ring for another half hour. But who needed alarm clocks when you had…

"Blaine! Blaine! Blaine! Blaine! Blaine!"

"Verity," Blaine groaned, shoving his pillow over his head, "It's not time to wake up, yet."

Blaine little sister stared at him innocently through big blue eyes, "Yes, it is."

Verity was only six, and could never understand why her brother liked to sleep so much. Sleeping people didn't get to see anything exciting. Blaine used to be fun, but lately things with her older brother had changed. Blaine had started talking funny and growing hair everywhere and he wouldn't get out of bed. Verity pouted, stamping one small foot on the ground, "Blaine, if you don't get up, I'm going to be forced to do something plastic."

"I think you mean 'drastic', Ver," Blaine said, his eyes sliding shut again. Well, he'd been warned.

Verity leaped forward and dug her long, skinny fingers into his side.

Blaine shrieked, and leaped out of bed, "Ah! Ha ha! Stop!"

"Not until you come and help me brush my hair!" Verity crowed. She had him now.

"Blaine!"

Verity turned from her tickle fight to see Daddy standing in the doorway. Daddy's eyes were wild, half of his shirt unbuttoned. His badge was dangling from his fingers.

"Hi, Daddy!" Verity said, running forward to hug her father. Daddy's eyes stared forward, locked on Blaine.

"What's going on here?" He said.

Blaine shuffled from foot to foot, "Um, Verity tickled me…"

"Oh," Daddy sighed, hugging Verity close, "Well, try not to scream so loud next time. You startled me."

"Yeah," Blaine said, "Sorry, Daddy."

Dad nodded, putting Verity on the ground and heading back to his room to finish changing. Daddy had been different lately, too. He'd been jumpy and strange, running over at the first noise she made. Verity tripped in her room last Thursday and Daddy had almost kicked her door down. Which would have made her cry because Mommy helped her paint a rainbow on her door and she didn't want Daddy's foot to ruin it.

Blaine helped Verity brush her hair and put it in braids while Mommy talked on the phone. Verity watched as Mommy smoothly did up her long blonde hair, and put on her lipstick.

"Yes, Gerald, I need you to pull the sample out of the freezer so that we can begin reconstructing the lost bone mass. No, I need you to do it, I'm driving my children to school… Thank you, Gerald." Mommy clicked the phone shut and leaned over to fasten Daddy's tie.

"I love you," Daddy whispered, leaning in for a kiss.

"I love you, too," Mommy said.

Daddy turned to Blaine and Verity, "I love you two. Be safe."

The doorbell rang, and Daddy let the people in as he ran out to his police car. Sam and Stevie Evans came into the kitchen, Sam wearing the same uniform as Blaine. Blaine dropped the newly finished braid and straightened up, "Hi, Sam!"

"Hey, Blaine," Sam said. He smiled at Blaine, a smile Blaine nervously returned. Mrs. Evans bustled in after them, fastening Sam's tie for him.

"Well, gosh, Faith, I can't tell you how grateful we are for you driving Sam and Stevie to school like this. Steven and I never have the time," Mrs. Evans said.

"Well, it's more practical to drive them both at the same time," Mom said, "Doing otherwise would cause significantly more effort, not to mention the extra exhaust fumes."

"Right," Mrs. Evans said. Her lips were a little tight when she smiled, "Have fun at school, boys."

Mommy dropped Sam and Blaine off at school first. Blaine didn't pay any attention to Verity's demands that he, "Look at my magic trick!" That was another odd thing about Blaine lately. Whenever Sam was around, he would giggle and listen to everything Sam said. Verity pouted. No matter, when she got to class everyone would have to watch her magic trick.

Mommy stopped at Blaine and Sam's school first. "I love you. Be safe," She called. Blaine didn't answer, but for once, he wasn't looking at Sam. He looked up at the school and swallowed hard. Verity didn't know why Blaine was scared to go to school. Verity loved school.

Mommy finally pulled in to the school parking lot, "I love you. Be - " That was as far as she got before Verity was out the door. She ran towards her group of friends, who were huddled around the swings.

"Hey, guys!" She called, "Watch my magic trick!"

But as soon as she began to show them, stupid Stevie Evans had to come up and steal her attention. He did it in nine smooth words.

"Have you guys heard about the killer in Columbus?" Stevie said.

The children gathered around. They liked to be scared, a little bit. Verity pouted, but joined the group around Stevie anyway.

"I heard Mom and Dad talking about him last night. He likes to kidnap little kids and torture them with his long knife fingers. And then, when he's done, he scoops their eyes out and eats them, like candy."

The children gave a collective shudder, all except Verity, who scoffed, "That's a lie. If there was a killer, my Daddy would have caught him by now."

"Well, maybe your Daddy can't catch him," Stevie said, "Maybe he's too scary."

"No one's too scary for my Dad," Verity said, making a fist the way Daddy had taught her, "My Daddy's not scared of anyone. You're a liar, Stevie Evans!"

Stevie stuck his tongue out at her, and she would have punched him right in his smug face, but Mrs. Sanderson saw her fist and made her and Stevie go to naptime early. But Verity couldn't sleep, too busy thinking about the killer who kidnapped people and scooped their eyes out.

"Stevie," She whispered, "Is that true, about the killer?"

"Mostly," Stevie yawned, "But he only kills big people, like Sammy's age…"

Verity nodded and snuggled into her cot. She was just about asleep when Stevie spoke again, filling her heart with new fear.

"… Like your brother."


	8. Chapter 8

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That night, Blaine snuggled into bed, groggy from a stomach full of Mom's chicken and peas, and having the comfortable thoughts that always sent him down the road to sleep.

'Sam kept looking at me today… I wonder if that's good… his breath smelled really good… he must use a good brand of toothpaste… and his hair smelled good… maybe I should ask him what shampoo he uses… no, Blaine, that's… weird... why should you care that Sam thinks it's weird… it's bro talk, isn't that what it's called… just because Sam has those eyes… and those lips… I wonder how he tastes… will he taste like that toothpaste smell… ooookay, I really don't need your opinion on this, little Blaine… wait, why am I hard thinking about Sam… is that normal… shouldn't I be thinking about a girl… well, let's try it, let's think about… Mrs. Gunderson… in a bikini… aaaaaaand he's no longer interested in this conversation… wait, did I just have a conversation with my penis… is that normal…'

"Blaine?"

Verity was standing by Blaine's bed in her nightgown, the door open behind her. She was biting her lip, and looking especially adorable in a Mickey Mouse nightgown and clutching a worn teddy bear. While Blaine looked like his father, all broad features and brown eyes, Verity took strongly after her mother. Verity inherited Mommy's bright blue eyes and delicate features. Her hair was the same shade of brown, or, at least, Blaine imagined it was, because his mother was fond of dying her hair.

"You're just determined to make sure I don't sleep, aren't you?" Blaine teased half-seriously. Verity stared up at him and squeezed her bear tighter.

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

Blaine thought about it for a moment. He wasn't wearing much tonight, just a raggedy pair of boxers. And he did not want to have that dream with Verity in his bed. That dream about Sam, where he… okay, back to Mrs. Gunderson… good boy… yeah, there were some things about the male anatomy that Verity did not need to be familiar with yet. "I don't know, Ver," Blaine said.

And then she broke his heart, puffing out her lips and begging, "Please, Blaine?"

"Okay, fine," Blaine said, pushing the sheets aside and allowing Verity to snuggle up to his side. He got up to put on same sleep pants while Verity snuggled in. He made his way over to shut the door.

Down the hall, Temperance Brennan was trying to fall asleep. Of course, she hadn't been 'Temperance Brennan" for fourteen years. Now she was Faith Anderson, wife of Joseph Anderson and father to Verity and Blaine. Faith's hand fluttered over her stomach as she turned to her other side, trying to get comfortable. Joe was on graveyard shift tonight, and she could never sleep as well without him there.

It shocked her sometimes, how easy their relationship was. How even though it had been over twenty years since she'd met him, Faith's heart still pulled her toward him, like they could never be close enough. Even combining their genetic material into two perfect children only made her desire to be near Joe stronger. Faith rubbed a hand over her stomach and turned over, trying to get comfortable. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she slowly drifted to sleep…

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Faith snapped back to consciousness, her heart beating too hard before she even knew the reason. A moment later, her mind joined her body and her heart rate doubled as she realized that her daughter was screaming.

"Verity? Verity, baby?" Faith ran down the hall, throwing open the door to Verity's room. Her little girl wasn't in her bed. "Verity? Verity!"

"Mom? We're in here." Blaine voice came, trembling, from his room. Faith threw open her son's door to find him on his bed, white as a sheet and shaking. His little sister was thrashing on his bed, screaming and crying in the midst of a nightmare.

"Verity? Verity, honey, wake up," Faith said. She gently pushed Blaine away and shook her daughter awake. Verity blinked into consciousness, locked eyes with her mother, and burst into tears.

"I-I had a bad dream!" She wailed. Faith leaped forward, throwing her arms around her daughter's shoulders and pressing the little girl's face into her shoulder. "I don't want him to eat Blaine's eyes!"

Something in Faith dropped unpleasantly, "What did you say?" Verity didn't answer, continuing to sob. Faith caught the little girl under her chin. "Who's going to hurt Blaine's eyes?"

"It was just a bad dream, Mom," Blaine whispered, but Faith cut him off.

"Verity, I need you to talk, honey. Who is going to hurt Blaine's eyes?"

Verity sniffed, "The killer."

Faith didn't go back to sleep that night. She sat outside her children's bedroom, watching her children fall back to sleep. Verity fell asleep against Blaine's chest, clinging to him as though scared he would disappear. Blaine glanced at his mother from time to time, clearly confused, but eventually fell asleep. Now he was nuzzling his pillow and making soft, contented sounds in his sleep, the same way he did when he was a baby.

Emotions coursed through her, one after the other. First anger, then fear, then sadness, and calm, and anger, and fear. Anger flared up inside her for the fourth time that night when her husband's footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Joe Anderson returned from another night of work hoping to slide into bed next to his sleeping wife and hold her until he fell asleep. He didn't expect her to be sitting outside their son's bedroom, a dark expression clouding her face. Joe paused.

"What's going on?" He said

"Verity had a nightmare, and woke up distressed. I assured her that it was nothing more than her mind dealing with the traumatic in a controlled environment within her own mind."

"Is she okay?" Joe asked. He peeked into the room, where his son and daughter were curled around each other. "Are you sure they should be sleeping together like that? It's adorable, don't get me wrong, but I think Blaine's getting to the age where his dreams are getting a little spicy, you know, and I don't think-" Joe trailed off, catching the look on his wife's face.

"If Blaine achieves and maintains an erection long enough for Verity to notice, we'll just have to use it as an educational opportunity. Verity refused to be separated from Blaine tonight. Apparently, one of Verity's friends at school told her a scary story."

"Someone's trying to scare her?" Joe asked, thick brow tightening, "Should I have a talk with his parents?"

"Joe, they told her there was a killer in Columbus. One who tortures people Blaine's age and cuts their eyes out."

Faith knew by the expression on her husband's face that he'd been caught. Joe recovered in a moment, and she watched as he tried to rearrange his features into something casual.

"You know kids. They'll make up anything, especially to impress a pretty girl."

"14 years," Faith said.

"What?"

"14 years. That's how far into this marriage it took for you to lie to me. The question now is why are you lying to me?" Faith fixed her husband with a hard stare. Joe opened his mouth to defend himself, but Faith was too far ahead of him, "I read the paper. You took the current events section from me this morning. Is it because you didn't want me to read about the people that have been tortured and murdered over the past few weeks in Columbus?"

"…. I didn't want to worry you," Joe mumbled.

"You didn't want to worry me?" Faith asked, "The irrationality of that statement is mind boggling. Listen, I want you to look in there. Go ahead, look," She gestured into the room, and Joe sighed as his children came into view. "They are real. Our son is real, and his safety is a bigger concern than my feelings. Can't you understand that?"

"I am not trying to put our children in danger, Faye, I have everything under control. There is nothing to worry about."

"If there's nothing to worry about than why were you actively avoiding my finding out in order to spare me worry?"

"You are doing it again," Joe said, "You are trying to rationalize our relationship in order to make me guilty, look, I did what I thought was right, for him, and for us. You need to understand that, Faith."

"I'm pregnant," Faith said.

Joe froze for one long moment, his eyes widening in a way that was almost funny. "What?"

"I'm having another baby."

And then, in the midst of their argument, Joe beamed, "Really? We're having another kid?"

"Yes," Faith said. She didn't have time to say anything else; Joe scooped her up in his arms and kissed her. She accepted the kiss, allowing herself to feel just the tiniest thrill of excitement, but as soon as Joe set her down the moment was over. "I love you, Joe."

"I love you, too."

"But I can't have you hiding things from me, especially something that threatens the life of our son. And that's why I need to know; is Dollface in Columbus?"

"…Yes," Joe said. Faith sighed and closed her eyes, "But he's been moving west for years; there's nothing to suggest that he knows we're here. He hasn't come anywhere near Westerville. If he did, I would know right away. I promise our children are safe."

"Blaine can't be anywhere near Columbus."

"I agree. I think it's best if we all avoid that area for the next little while."

"And if he gets any closer, you'll tell me?" Faith asked.

"I promise, Bones," Joe said. He took his wife's face in one hand and placed the other on her stomach, his pet name for her whispered into the dark silence of their home. He only used it in their most private moments, and Faith crumbled, pressing her lips to his wrist.

The parents took one last glance at their sleeping children and went to bed.


End file.
